The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) Read online

  “There you are,” the lady at the desk said, slapping a key on the desk. She was blond with gray roots, and wore red cat-eye glasses and a tight plaid flannel shirt. “I was about to close up. Breakfast is from eight to ten-thirty, but the chocolate waffles go fast, so I’d get here before nine if I were you.” She saluted her with a steaming coffee mug.

  Lucy paused. She thought Fawn had settled everything. “I’m sorry, but I’m not staying. I just need to use the bathroom.”

  The woman froze with the mug halfway to her lips. “But it’s our best room. I told your friend we didn’t do refunds. She said you wouldn’t want one anyway.” Her glance slid past Lucy to Miles, who had come in behind her.

  Lucy didn’t move. The key was the long, old-fashioned metal kind, attached to a narrow wooden tag labeled “9.” It sat there, splayed out on the scarred wooden counter in a V shape. Like two legs spread apart.

  Lucy ran her hands over her eyes. “I just want to use the bathroom. We don’t know if we’re staying.”

  She could feel Miles approach her from behind. We don’t know…

  “Up to you, of course,” the woman said. Her study of Miles seemed to explain something to her, because her slightly offended look had warmed into bland amusement. With a faint smile, she tapped the key with one nail-bitten finger before turning off the desk lamp. “Like I said, the chocolate waffles are real popular.” She winked at Miles. “Worth sticking around for.”

  Lucy grabbed the key. “Where is it? The bathroom is en suite?”

  “Yup. Right up those stairs, far left corner, ocean side,” the woman said.

  “Thanks.” Lucy jogged up the stairs without looking back, not sure if Miles would follow her or not but certain she didn’t want to put on a show in front of the proprietor.

  The Victorian building had a long, narrow upstairs hallway with a worn runner down the middle and a handful of rooms on either side. Framed images of dogs of all kinds lined the walls—some photos, some illustrations. The floorboards creaked.

  She found the west-facing corner and let herself in just as Miles appeared at the end of the hallway behind her.

  “I’m just going to use the bathroom,” she called out.

  He nodded, striding closer, glancing around. “I’ll go after you,” he said. “If you don’t mind.”

  She pushed the door open to let him inside. “Understandable.”

  He was big. He had to duck, brushing against her in the doorway on his way in. “Given what we were up to,” he said in a low voice.

  She swallowed. “Yeah. Anyway. I’ll go first. Thanks.” Barely noticing the shabby-chic decor, (except for the enormous four-poster bed in the middle of the room), Lucy scurried over to the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

  While she cleaned up, she had to face facts.

  That was the best sex she’d ever had in her life.

  She was a little sore, but in a good way. Letting herself smile, she shook the sand out of her underwear, jeans, and boots into the lined wicker wastebasket. Got dressed again.

  Feeling less gritty, she went to the pedestal sink to wash. She froze when she saw her face in the mirror.

  No wonder the front desk lady was amused. Wild hair, unfocused eyes, razor-burned cheeks, puffy lips—she was quite a sight. Soap and water just wasn’t enough to wipe away the evidence of what she’d obviously been up to.

  Miles knocked on the door. “Are you all right?”

  She ran a hand through her electric-socket curls. Never better. She dried off with a fluffy towel and pulled open the door. “Let’s stay.”

  He didn’t react. Face impassive, he asked, “Here?”

  “Of course, ‘here.’ What else would I mean?”

  “Sorry, it’s just you were quite insistent a few minutes ago about going back.”

  Lucy put her hands on her hips. A tiny voice inside her suggested he’d already gotten what he wanted. “Don’t you want to stay?”

  “Sure.” He ran a hand through his hair, then wrinkled his nose and looked at his fingers. “I’ve got sand in my hair.”

  “It’s just—” She stopped herself, not liking the way his face had closed up. His eyes were watching her, but not like before when he seemed to want to consume her.

  Of course he wasn’t falling over himself with lust now that they were in full lighting. Hadn’t she just looked in the mirror? She looked like a slutty mermaid the ocean vomited onto the beach.

  There was a pitcher of water with glasses on a small round table by the window. She walked over to it and poured. “The room’s already paid for. It seemed like a waste. But it’s nothing special, and of course the resort costs a million times more.”

  She was babbling. She needed a shower and a long night’s sleep and tomorrow she wouldn’t feel so insecure and vulnerable.

  “I don’t mind staying,” he said.

  Mind?

  “No, forget it,” she said. “Wash up, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  He stared at her from across the room, one hand on the bathroom door. “Do me a favor and stay here. I’ll just be a minute.”

  “I mean it, Miles. Forget what I said. I’m a mess, obviously. I just want to get back to the resort so I can figure this all out tomorrow.”

  He smiled a little. “I know what you mean,” he said. “Please stay in the room? Some of those guys down there were a little rough.”

  She waved him off and poured herself a second glass of water. “Fine. Go on.”

  He disappeared behind the door and she let out a long breath. What was her problem? It wasn’t like they hadn’t already had sex. Hot, hard, crazy, pounding sex. Just down there, she thought, looking out the window.

  She thought he’d go wild again at the suggestion they stay. Not shrug like he was doing her a favor.

  He’s not Dan.

  And he wasn’t Alex, either. Alex, who wouldn’t ever speak to her again, at least not with baby strollers in his eyes. Alex, who’d followed her out here, who she’d shoved into the backseat of a Porsche so she could be with another guy.

  Hoping Fawn left her credit card on file for incidentals, Lucy popped open the mini-bar cabinet and found a bag of M&M’s. With peanuts. Which made them nutritious, she decided, tearing the wrapper apart.

  She washed those down with a Diet Coke, keeping her back to the door. It was late, but the bar was still noisy. People’s voices and music vibrated through the building. This B&B hardly compared to the Soul of Muir Resort. Even the water glasses were mismatched, one of them chipped. If she hadn’t been blinded by alcohol and lust, she would have noticed right away the room was hardly the quaint haven the proprietor had assured Fawn hours ago.

  Miles came out, only glanced at her as he zipped up his jacket.

  It was that aloof gesture that made Lucy set down her drink and stride over to the door. “I’ve been on a motorcycle a few times before,” she said, pulling it open, “but not recently.”

  He cleared his throat and followed her into the hallway. The door slammed behind them. “It’s a good bike for a second rider. You’ll be fine.”

  They walked down the hall, past the puppies and dogs smiling at them from their framed posts on the walls. Just as they slowed at the top of the dim, narrow staircase, Miles touched her arm. “Careful, there’s a loose floorboard. Three steps down.”

  She hesitated. He hadn’t removed his hand. “Thanks.”

  “I’m surprised Fawn settled for this place,” he said softly.

  “We liked the bar and the view.”

  His fingers softened on her arm. His hand moved to cup her shoulder. “Lucy…”

  Her heart began to pound. “It’s okay,” she said, imagining the heat of his palm through her thick jacket.

  “It’s not how I imagined—”

  She turned. “Look, if you want to regret it, fine, but I’m not going to.”

  He moved ahead of her down the stairs and faced her. Soft gray eyes fixed on hers, he captured both her shoulders i
n his hands. Slowly, he grinned. “I don’t regret it. Are you kidding?”

  “Then stop moping around. Just because I want to go back to the resort doesn’t mean—”

  “Yes?”

  She poked him in the chest. “Doesn’t mean anything about you. I rushed out with Fawn so fast I didn’t even bring a toothbrush.”

  He nodded and turned, gesturing down the stairs. “I apologize. I will stop moping around and commence playful post-sex banter.”

  “Thank you.” The wood creaked under her feet as she made her way back down to the main floor. Luckily, the front desk was empty, and the two of them slipped out into the night without another word.

  Miles got a helmet out of the rear case of his motorcycle and sized her up. “You sober enough to hold on?”

  “I held on to you, didn’t I?”

  He didn’t smile. “Yeah.”

  “Hey, playful post-sex banter, remember?”

  He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I remember.” He looked down at her, patted her wild hair. “Let’s see if this helmet will fit you.”

  The foam interior of the helmet slipped over her skull. “It’s tight,” she said, trying to poke her hair into it, out of her face.

  He nodded. Tapped his own.

  She swung a leg over the bike and climbed aboard, wiggling her bottom to get comfortable. “You should know I can’t hear anything, okay?” Just because they were there and he was staring at her, she grabbed the handlebars and bounced up and down, pretending to rev the engine.

  He didn’t move to get on in front of her. Finally, he said something she couldn’t hear.

  “What?” she yelled.

  Closing his eyes for a moment, he stepped up to her, unbuckled the strap under her chin, and took off her helmet. “I almost made it. Later, I hope you give me credit for that at least.”

  “Made what?”

  He cupped her face, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “You didn’t really think I’d drive you back tonight, did you?” He traced her bottom lip with his finger and his voice fell. “When I’ve finally got you all to myself?”

  Chapter 17

  WHEN HE FIRST MET HER, Miles thought Lucy was cute. Down on the beach, he thought she was smoking hot. But now, watching the moonlight reflect in her wide, soulful eyes, the only word for her was… beautiful.

  Beautiful.

  His heart was beating too fast again. He wanted her, was afraid he wouldn’t get her. Not for another quickie, but a slow, comfortable night together, far from rich, needy friends.

  Luckily, she didn’t have a car.

  “You didn’t seem so eager a few minutes ago,” she said, her bottom lip plumping out a little bit.

  He rubbed it with his thumb, bent down closer. “I was trying to be a gentleman.”

  “A gentleman doesn’t make a woman feel like she’s asking for it.”

  He put an arm around her waist and lifted her off the bike. “You can ask for anything you want, sweetheart.”

  She wriggled down to the ground but didn’t push him away. Taking that as a sign, he caressed the small of her back, slid around her hip, squeezed the swell of her ass.

  Earlier he’d worried about being able to perform again so soon. Now he hoped he’d be able to go slow enough to make a better impression this time. He kissed her quickly on the cheek and took her hand. “Back to the room.”

  “You should have made up your mind earlier. I turned in the—” But she hadn’t. Slowly, she reached into her pocket for the large room key and stared at it. “I forgot to turn it in.”

  “I noticed.” He grinned at her and tugged her across the parking lot. “That’s what sealed your fate.”

  “I can’t believe I forgot. I never forget things like that.”

  Her hand was small compared to his but not the least bit frail. He didn’t have to worry about hurting her. As they passed the front desk, his mind was thinking ahead to what he would do first to her body, what parts he’d kiss, taste, take. When she went ahead of him up the stairs, his conscious thoughts fled, replaced by the vision that was Lucy’s ass swaying closely at eye level.

  He grabbed her hips to feel her as she climbed. A forty-something woman in a hooded sweatshirt appeared at the top of the stairs, coming down with a telescope over one shoulder. Miles quickly dropped his hands.

  “Partial lunar eclipse tonight,” she said, nodding as she passed. “Hope the fog doesn’t come in.”

  “Yes,” Lucy said vaguely.

  “Good luck,” Miles said, grabbing Lucy’s bottom again.

  They stumbled onto the landing and made their way down the hallway to their room, weaving from side to side as they progressed from light groping to heavy petting with each step. By the time the key was in the lock, Miles had unbuttoned Lucy’s jeans and slipped his hand underneath her underwear.

  “The—key—doesn’t work,” she said, leaning her back against his chest to let him touch her.

  Warm, soft curls under his hand, then wet, slick heat. His breathing was fast and shallow. “Maybe you’re distracted.”

  “Huh,” she said. “I’m usually very focused.”

  Reluctantly, he removed his hand and unlocked the door. “Maybe you’re focused on something else right now.” Gently, he pushed her ahead of him into the room and shut them inside.

  Alone, quiet, together. The metal bed looked big enough, but old. He hoped there wasn’t anyone directly below them because it looked like a squeaker.

  He turned Lucy around in his arms and captured her face in his hands and nuzzled. “Are you a squeaker?” he whispered.

  “I can squeak.” Her hands were at his throat, tugging down the zipper to his jacket, and then she was on tiptoe trying to push the armored leather from his shoulders.

  He bent down and let her tear it off of him. “I like the way you do that.”

  Next she went after his shirt. And his jeans. His knees began to shake. “Easy,” he said, holding her hands just as she reached for his underwear. “We’ve got all night.”

  She jerked her hands free and ran them up his chest under his T-shirt. A jolt of exquisite pain shot through him as she found a nipple and pinched. He yelped, and she pushed the fabric up and kissed him softly. “Sorry.”

  He ran his hands through her hair and held her against his heart. “No problem.”

  “Boots?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She bent down and unlaced them, then her own, and in ten seconds he was in his boxer briefs, barefoot and erect, watching her peel off her own shirt while he felt his heart stop.

  “On the bed,” she said, pointing. She wore a black, silky-looking bra that shoved her breasts up and out, and black bikini panties with a yellow smiley face right over the jackpot. Her hair was wild and bright around her flushed cheeks and pointy chin. She looked like an aroused, sexually dominant fairy.

  He was all hers. Tearing off his underwear, he hopped over to the bed and flung himself down on his back.

  Doubt flickered across her face as she stared at his cock. “You’re kind of huge all over, aren’t you?”

  He reached down and stroked himself, firm but slow. “We already had a trial run,” he said through his teeth. “Remember? No need to worry.”

  Licking her lips, she raked her gaze over him from head to toe, one hand lightly circling her left nipple through the fabric. “I remember.” She dipped a finger in her red, swollen mouth, sucked it, then rubbed the saliva over the fabric until her nipple was hard and visible.

  She repeated this on the other side while Miles watched and clutched fistfuls of fabric. “You are so hot.”

  That seemed to please her. She smiled and looked down at herself, then up at him. “What do you want to see first?”

  “Whatever you got, baby.”

  She turned around, tilted a hip, looked at him over her shoulder. “You like?”

  “Very much.” Jaw clenched, he gathered more fabric in his fists.

  With a teasing smile that made his heart l
urch, she pushed down the elastic over her ass, exposing a round expanse of perfect, womanly flesh. Then she caressed herself, pulling the rest of the fabric down her hips. “Still happy?”

  “Come over here and I’ll show you how much.”

  She bent over and slipped the panties off.

  He lunged, grabbed her around the waist, and threw her down on the bed next to him. Smiling, her green eyes hot with desire, she wrapped a hand behind his neck and tugged him down for a kiss.

  The playfulness faded and serious lust took over. While his tongue swept into her mouth, he unhooked her bra and reached under the cups to free her breasts. He broke away from her mouth to kiss his way down her neck, nipping and breathing hot against her skin to her breasts. Stroking his hand between her thighs, he sucked one nipple into his mouth, hard then soft, and licked his way to the other.

  “Lift your knees,” he said, his mouth only an inch from her skin. He pushed her thighs apart and settled himself between them. “Put your feet on my shoulders.”

  Soft toes curled around his neck and settled on his collarbone. “You don’t have to—”

  “Do too,” he said, going down.

  She was as responsive and passionate as any woman he’d ever been with, generous and lusty, open and free. He’d begun with a goal of getting her off so he could move on to his own release without feeling guilty, but soon he lost track of any plan and became obsessed with teasing her. He brought her close to the edge and pulled back, stroking, penetrating her with his tongue, his fingers, until he finally gave her what she wanted. She screamed out and he crawled back up her body, triumphant but close to the edge himself.

  Hands shaking, he got a condom on and settled himself on top of her. Sweaty and dazed, she looked up at him with raw tenderness in her eyes. Then her fingers wrapped around his cock and guided him down He thrust into her, unable to wait any longer, and she felt so good and so right. He shouted out her name.

  Though it wasn’t an easy fit, she tilted her hips to take him deeper. They fell into a rhythm together, pulsing back and forth. He couldn’t stop looking into her eyes. His body began to shudder, his arms flexed on either side of her beautiful face. Surprisingly uninhibited, she cried out and dug her nails into his skin.